> that was confirmed when, two hours later, she came entirely in sight.



"The Dobryna!" exclaimed Servadac, keeping his eye unmoved at his

telescope.



"Impossible, sir!" rejoined Ben Zoof; "there are no signs of smoke."



"The Dobryna!" repeated the captain, positively. "She is under sail;

but she is Count Timascheff's yacht."



He was right. If the count were on board, a strange fatality was

bringing him to the presence of his rival. But no longer now could

Servadac regard him in the light of an adversary; circumstances had

changed, and all animosity was absorbed in the eagerness with which

he hailed the prospect of obtaining some information about the recent

startling and inexplicable events. During the twenty-seven days that she

had been absent, the Dobryna, he conjectured, would have explored the

Mediterranean, would very probably have visited Spain, France, or Italy,

and accordingly would convey to Gourbi Island some intelligence from

one or other of those countries. He reckoned, therefore, not only upon

ascertaining the extent of the late catastrophe, but upon learning

its cause. Count Timascheff was, no doubt, magnanimously coming to the

rescue of himself and his orderly.



The wind being adverse, the Dobryna did not make very rapid progress;

but as the weather, in spite of a few clouds, remained calm, and the

sea was quite smooth, she was enabled to hold a steady course. It seemed

unaccountable that she should not use her engine, as whoever was on

board, would be naturally impatient to reconnoiter the new island, which

must just have come within their view. The probability that suggested

itself was that the schooner's fuel was exhausted.



Servadac took it for granted that the Dobryna was endeavoring to

put in. It occurred to him, however, that the count, on discovering an

island where he had expected to find the mainland of Africa, would not

unlikely be at a loss for a place of anchorage. The yacht was evidently

making her way in the direction of the former mouth of the Shelif,

and the captain was struck with the idea that he would do well to

investigate whether there was any suitable mooring towards which he

might signal her. Zephyr and Galette were soon saddled, and in twenty

minutes had carried their riders to the western extremity of the island,

where they both dismounted and began to explore the coast.



They were not long in ascertaining that on the farther side of the

point there was a small well-sheltered creek of sufficient depth to

accommodate a vessel of moderate tonnage. A narrow channel formed a

passage through the ridge of rocks that protected it from the open sea,

and which, even in the roughest weather, would ensure the calmness of

its waters.



Whilst examining the rocky shore, the captain observed, to his great

surprise, long and well-defined rows of seaweed, which undoubtedly

betokened that there had been a very considerable ebb and flow of the

waters--a thing unknown in the Mediterranean, where there is scarcely

any perceptible tide. What, however, seemed most remarkable, was the

manifest evidence that ever since the highest flood (which was caused,

in all probability, by the proximity of the body of which the huge

disc had been so conspicuous on the night of the 31st of December) the

phenomenon had been gradually lessening, and in fact was now reduced to

the normal limits which had characterized it before the convulsion.



Without doing more than note the circumstance, Servadac turned his

entire attention to the Dobryna, which, now little more than a mile

from shore, could not fail to see and understand his signals. Slightly

changing her course, she first struck her mainsail, and, in order to

facilitate the movements of her helmsman, soon carried nothing but her

two topsails, brigantine and jib. After rounding the peak, she steered

direct for the channel to which Servadac by his gestures was pointing

her, and was not long in entering the creek. As soon as the anchor,

imbedded in the sandy bottom, had made good its hold, a boat was

lowered. In a few minutes more Count Timascheff had landed on the

island. Captain Servadac hastened towards him.



"First of all, count," he exclaimed impetuously, "before we speak one

other word, tell me what has happened."



The count, whose imperturbable composure presented a singular contrast

to the French officer's enthusiastic vivacity, made a stiff bow, and

in his Russian accent replied: "First of all, permit me to express my

surprise at seeing you here. I left you on a continent, and here I have

the honor of finding you on an island."



"I assure you, count, I have never left the place."



"I am quite aware of it. Captain Servadac, and I now beg to offer you my

sincere apologies for failing to keep my appointment with you."



"Never mind, now," interposed the captain; "we will talk of that

by-and-by. First, tell me what has happened."



"The very question I was about to put to you, Captain Servadac."



"Do you mean to say you know nothing of the cause, and can tell me

nothing of the extent, of the catastrophe which has transformed this

part of Africa into an island?"



"Nothing more than you know yourself."



"But surely, Count Timascheff, you can inform me whether upon the

northern shore of the Mediterranean--"



"Are you certain that this is the Mediterranean?" asked the count

significantly, and added, "I have discovered no sign of land."



The captain stared in silent bewilderment. For some moments he seemed

perfectly stupefied; then, recovering himself, he began to overwhelm the

count with a torrent of questions. Had he noticed, ever since the 1st

of January, that the sun had risen in the west? Had he noticed that the

days had been only six hours long, and that the weight of the atmosphere

was so much diminished? Had he observed that the moon had quite

disappeared, and that the earth had been in imminent hazard of running

foul of the planet Venus? Was he aware, in short, that the entire

motions of the terrestrial sphere had undergone a complete modification?

To all these inquiries, the count responded in the affirmative. He

was acquainted with everything that had transpired; but, to Servadac's

increasing astonishment, he could throw no light upon the cause of any

of the phenomena.



"On the night of the 31st of December," he said, "I was proceeding by

sea to our appointed place of meeting, when my yacht was suddenly caught

on the crest of an enormous wave, and carried to a height which it

is beyond my power to estimate. Some mysterious force seemed to have

brought about a convulsion of the elements. Our engine was damaged, nay

disabled, and we drifted entirely at the mercy of the terrible hurricane

that raged during the succeeding days. That the Dobryna escaped at all

is little less than a miracle, and I can only attribute her safety

to the fact that she occupied the center of the vast cyclone, and

consequently did not experience much change of position."



He paused, and added: "Your island is the first land we have seen."



"Then let us put out to sea at once and ascertain the extent of the

disaster," cried the captain, eagerly. "You will take me on board,

count, will you not?"



"My yacht is at your service, sir, even should you require to make a

tour round the world."



"A tour round the Mediterranean will suffice for the present, I think,"

said the captain, smiling.



The count shook his head.



"I am not sure," said he, "but what the tour of the Mediterranean will

prove to be the tour of the world."



Servadac made no reply, but for a time remained silent and absorbed in

thought.



After the silence was broken, they consulted as to what course was

best to pursue; and the plan they proposed was, in the first place, to

discover how much of the African coast still remained, and to carry on

the tidings of their own experiences to Algiers; or, in the event of the

southern shore having actually disappeared, they would make their way

northwards and put themselves in communication with the population on

the river banks of Europe.



Before starting, it was indispensable that the engine of the Dobryna

should be repaired: to sail under canvas only would in contrary winds

and rough seas be both tedious and difficult. The stock of coal on

board was adequate for two months' consumption; but as it would at

the expiration of that time be exhausted, it was obviously the part

of prudence to employ it in reaching a port where fuel could be

replenished.



The damage sustained by the engine proved to be not very serious; and

in three days after her arrival the Dobryna was again ready to put to

sea.



Servadac employed the interval in making the count acquainted with

all he knew about his small domain. They made an entire circuit of

the island, and both agreed that it must be beyond the limits of that

circumscribed territory that they must seek an explanation of what had

so strangely transpired.



It was on the last day of January that the repairs of the schooner were

completed. A slight diminution in the excessively high temperature which

had prevailed for the last few weeks, was the only apparent change in

the general order of things; but whether this was to be attributed to

any alteration in the earth's orbit was a question which would still

require several days to decide. The weather remained fine, and although

a few clouds had accumulated, and might have caused a trifling fall

of the barometer, they were not sufficiently threatening to delay the

departure of the Dobryna.



Doubts now arose, and some discussion followed, whether or not it was

desirable for Ben Zoof to accompany his master. There were various

reasons why he should be left behind, not the least important being that

the schooner had no accommodation for horses, and the orderly would have

found it hard to part with Zephyr, and much more with his own favorite

Galette; besides, it was advisable that there should be some one left to

receive any strangers that might possibly arrive, as well as to keep an

eye upon the herds of cattle which, in the dubious prospect before them,

might prove to be the sole resource of the survivors of the catastrophe.

Altogether, taking into consideration that the brave fellow would incur

no personal risk by remaining upon the island, the captain was induced

with much reluctance to forego the attendance of his servant, hoping

very shortly to return and to restore him to his country, when he had

ascertained the reason of the mysteries in which they were enveloped.



On the 31st, then, Ben Zoof was "invested with governor's powers," and

took an affecting leave of his master, begging him, if chance should

carry him near Montmartre, to ascertain whether the beloved "mountain"

had been left unmoved.



Farewells over, the Dobryna was carefully steered through the creek,

and was soon upon the open sea.